Turkish Gold

[Verse 1]

Just shy of a child when I signed I wasn't s'posed to know (Tony Seltzer)

What I know now what I won't let go

When I was as close to selling my soul

Call it what you call it, but me I saw it up close

Shit, you ain't independent 'less you on your own

And now, I ain't into selling shit that I don't own

And you can go to hell with it if you don't think I know

I'm worth more than twenty bones, plenty mo'

It'll be in my memory when I get this dough

What I have to let a legend let 'em know?

That's not enough for 'em, I have to settle for a more devilish approach

Take on eventual tone

[?], it could be mental or more detestable, undigestible

Gets archaic, invite the block, let 'em have a show

They all payin', they all watch

Invest what I make back into the car wash

The laundromat, I guess you could call it that

Ain't done 'til we rid of all the bad apples in the [Apple graduate's undergrads?]

Mad ain't go to college, ask what I woulda done with that

Fuck that, I'ma get a PhD off of rap

Be conceited with it, flashed at educated cats

A doctor with a doctorate talkin' my shit to a college class

[Chorus]

Revenge is a dish best served cold

So, I wanna burn those turncoats

The irony of the words chose

Leave holes in 'em, not bulletholes, no

Torture 'em with Turkish gold

Those who deserted the cold

Who them over there? Yeah, woah

You shoulda heard the version they told

[Verse 2]

So how you gonna blame me for takin' it personal?

Turned to a sick fuck when I take what I'm owed

And I never forgot, thought you'd never get caught

Lackin', but actions speak louder than talk

Let's see what he got, he feel he the man

Damn, throw him off a building, let's see where he land

All the underhanded complements done wondering what's they plan

Or did I just misunderstand

So now, this latest disrespect is fuck you and your mans

And a big thank you to my ex for fuckin' my friends

For showin' me who was just showin' up like one of them

And it got me sick, but just dubbin' 'em

I'm done with 'em, but got some sticks

Of dynamite up my sleeve, comin' from my wrist

Into my hand, then into your crib

Tic-tic, boom, where he went

Into an abyss, when it come the vengeance, never miss

[Chorus]

Revenge is a dish best served cold

So, I wanna burn those turncoats

The irony of the words chose

Leave holes in 'em, not bulletholes, no

Torture 'em with Turkish gold

Those who deserted the cold

Who them over there? Yeah, woah

You shoulda heard the version they told

[Outro]

Wait a minute, I got it

We stab him with an icicle (So what?)

They'd never find the murder weapon, it melts

Where you going to get an icicle in the summertime?